


Wings of Freedom

by TciddaEmina



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 21:49:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2483630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TciddaEmina/pseuds/TciddaEmina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone had once told him the Veil was a pathway between worlds and at the time Harry hadn't believed them. Now Harry had no choice to accept the truth when, after a push through the Veil, he finds himself confronted with naked giants that seemed a bit too keen on eating him. SLASH - Eventual Erwin/Harry (If I get that far) Possible Gore, Mild Violence and Torture...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Harry couldn't believe he hadn't seen this coming.

Barely an hour passed since the defeat of Lord Voldemort and his wand was being ripped from him as he was bundled to the Ministry of Magic, down into the depths of the Department of Mysteries.

Empty faces watched him from open doorways as he was dragged past, not a single one of them raising a hand to help him. Instead they stood silent and complacent, blindly obeying the Ministry as they always had.

His protests were ignored as rough hands seized him, gripping him by his robes and tugging him towards the death room. His captors ignored the blood that covered his robes and stained their hands a sickening red. Nevermind that a majority of the blood was actually his, wet and flowing from unhealed wounds that continued to bleed sluggishly even now. They would continue to do so without treatment, mixing with the sickly warmth of his enemy's lifeblood. Friend or foe, light or dark, it was all just blood in the end. Lives wasted fighting a war instigated by a madman.

Exhaustion clawed at him, but Harry was only spurred on by each drop of blood that marred the Ministry's pristine marble floor. Endless hours of violent dueling for his life in the chaos of battle making his resistance feeble and weak. The haunting months of his search for Horcruxes taking their toll on him.

Harry was tired of war. He was tired of killing and fighting and killing some more just to try and stop the horrifying flow of casualties. Tired of slaughtering people because they followed ideals different than his own.

The red robes of the Auror uniform a vivid glare against his weary eyes, his mind whirried with fading adrenaline as the situation became all the more dire with the realization of what this meant.

Aurors. Ministry. Official. Department of Mysteries. Death Room. Veil.

He remembered something someone had once told him about the veil, but in his fatigued state he couldn't place who exactly it had been. Faceless voices drifted through his head, repeating information he could hardly remember learning.

The veil. Some people think its a gate to death itself, others that its a portal to another world. Nobody knows where it leads for sure, just that if someone goes through then they never come back. They used to send criminals through, probably so that they wouldn't have to do their own dirty work and deal with the bodies afterwards.

They were going to get rid of him. Throw him through the veil like some antediluvian criminal.

Harry thinks the thought may have made him struggle harder if his vision weren't already beginning to go dark around the edge, unconsciousness already beginning to sink its claws into him. Instead it just made him bitter, giving up his useless resistance and turning his remaining energy inwards, letting himself hang limp in the Auror's grip as they dragged him on regardless.

When you thought about it logically, it was obvious, Harry noted sadly.

He had just killed Lord Voldemort, the strongest wizard of their age with Dumbledore gone, and now came the consequences. With Voldemort defeated people would have only one person to fear: Him. He was powerful, more powerful than the Dark Lord he had just proved, and that meant he was dangerous in the eyes of the British Wizarding World and their fickle opinions.

The Ministry, eager to be seen doing something and courting public support, would have seen it as an opportunity. Killing two birds with one stone as they disposed of the public's greatest fear and the one man powerful enough to oppose their racist, hypocritical regime.

This had been coming for some time, at least since fifth year with the Prophet's claim of his madness and growing lust for power and attention. People had lapped that up as if it were cast iron truth, a simple way of fixing all their problems. Allowing them to return to their blissful blind ignorance. Their crusades to spread scandal and slander continuing until it became almost physically painful to bear the hateful glares and shouted whispers.

He had been stupid, a naïve child believing all he was told. The Wizarding World had always painted him with their own opinion's, seeing him as what they thought he should be rather than who, and what, he really was.

To them he was first a savior. Then a liar. Madman. Savior. Enemy. Fugitive and now a threat. Perhaps he would be remembered alongside Voldemort as a great villain rather than the boy, now man, that had saved them from their real enemy.

The marble was replaced by sandstone as he was heaved up the uneven platform in the centre of the Death Room. Standing now before the veil, its wispy movements not a foot in front him and its rasping voices whispering in his ear, firm hands turned him to face his captors.

Two men. One lightly tanned, the other pale. Both had similar shades of brown hair and both wore the battle ready robes of the Wizarding Ministry's Law Enforcement Department.

The man to his left, the paler one, raised his wand to Harry's neck. The hard wood pressed sharply against his jugular as the man looked at Harry with an amalgamation of hate and pity.

“Harry Potter” The man stated, his face almost bare of emotion save for those all too expressive eyes.

Beside him his tan colleague stood silent with restrained anger, exaggerated to mask the irrational fear he felt in his prisoner's presence. Potter looked normal enough, he thought, but there was something about the kid that raised his hackles. He was too powerful to live, especially since he could revolt like You-Know-Who at any moment and go on a killing spree.

“Harry Potter” The man repeated before continuing. “You have been sentenced to the Veil by order of the Minister of Magic, for the use of illegal curses and offensive magics against your fellow wizard; the murder of the Half-Blood Tom Riddle; and finally for being an unregistered animagus. Do you have anything to say in your defense, noting that your sentence is irrefutable and will not be lightened, removed or otherwise changed now or in future?”

Harry glared back at them but did not respond, defiant in his silence. Gathering his weakened body as best he could he held himself straight, his head high and his posture proud. He was betrayed by those he had saved and about to be thrown through the Veil, but he would not cower and beg before these two men. Nor would he scorn them with petty words. It wouldn't do any good and they weren't worth his breath, especially since he had no idea what he would be met with on the other side of the Veil.

The second Auror sneered at him, pulling Harry's wand from his pocket. It wasn't his Holly wand or the Elder wand, both having already been destroyed, instead it was the Hawthorn wand he had won from Malfoy. As he watched the dark wood strained and snapped in the mans hands, exposing the silver strands of Unicorn hair within.

Harry flinched at the cracking noise and the outward rush of magic that accompanied the sound from the area of the break. It was a shame, Harry supposed, to see the wand snapped. He had intended to return it to Malfoy and hopefully see about getting another wand, because although the wand suited him well enough, using it had always left him with a nagging feeling of displacement, as if the wand knew he was not its original owner and it wished to return to its true master.

The next thing Harry knew a wand was pointed at his face and a red spell flying towards him with the sharp incantation of Stupify. The darkness that had already been bleeding into the edges of his sight filled his vision in an instant, tugging his mind from awareness as the spell worked towards its purpose.

Perhaps the spell had just been weak, or perhaps the destruction of the Horcrux in Harry's scar had changed something within him. Either way the spell took a second longer than its usual instantaneousness to take hold, leaving Harry to feel the icy touch of the Veil's phantom fabrics against his back as he fell into its frigid space.

Just as he sank into unconsciousness he could have sworn he heard a voice whisper in his ear. It was a soft overlapping of tones, a thousand voices speaking the same words at once, but the words were not muffled. Rather they were clear to his ears, the words burning themselves irrevocably into his mind before fading into the recesses of memory, hiding behind foggy clouds of swirling emotion and whirling hurricanes of thought.

'Welcome, Harry Potter... We've been waiting for you.'


	2. Chapter 2

Harry flinched back from the attack, bringing his hands to cradle his head as he tried to escape the pain of Snape invading his mind once again. Memories flashed before his eyes, images of his childhood at the Dursley's mixed with scenes of him laughing with Ron and Hermione and thoughts homework and school all coming together in a dizzying conglomeration of emotion and imagery.

“Repel me from your mind, Potter! Do you think the Dark Lord is going to wait for you to defend yourself? You must be capable of blocking intrusion at any moment.” Snape snapped, shifting ever more forcefully through Harry's mind.

“I'm trying!” Harry replied weakly, still concentrating on trying to force his Professor from his mind.

“You are lazy, Potter, just like your no good father. You must clear your mind!”

An image of Cedric appeared before his eyes, bringing to the surface all the guilt and loathing associated. It was his fault Cedric was dead. It was his idea to share the cup - he should have been faster, should have saved him, instead he just stood there and watched as he was murdered.

“Of course, Potter.”Snape sneered upon viewing Harry's thoughts. “The world revolves around you and everything that happens has to do with you. The great Harry Potter! Stronger than the Dark Lord himself – of course its his fault the Diggory boy died.”

The assault on his mind lessened for a moment before resuming with full force, stripping through what meager mental defences he had been able to put up during the respite to scour his thoughts once more.

“Do you really think you could have done anything to save him, Potter? Even you, with all your asinine luck could not have combated the Dark Lord and escaped alive while protecting Diggory. He was dead the moment you arrived in the graveyard.”

“That's a lie!” Harry shouted, his fist clenching around his wand with such force his skin whitened with the pressure. “I could have saved him! If I'd noticed faster, gotten to the port-key faster, he would have lived.”

“And how, Potter, would this have accomplished anything? The Dark Lord would still have returned and you would have died trying to protect Diggory like the poor heroic martyr you are. Has it ever occurred to you, Potter, that you have a hero complex leading you to believe that only you can help people and into acts of immeasurable idiocy?

Harry glared.“I won't just sit back and watch people suffer if theres anything I can do to help, Sna- Professor. If I can help at all, even the smallest chance I can save even one person, then I will help – no matter what.”

Snape raised a single black eyebrow in reply. “No matter your conviction to saving people, Potter, none of it will matter one bit if you cannot protect your mind against your enemies. What use is saving one person if while doing so you leave everything you wish to protect open to attack because you cannot guard your thoughts? None of it will have any worth unless you manage to eliminate your weakness.”

“Yes, sir.” Harry acknowledged reluctantly. Snape was right – he wouldn't be able to save anyone if Voldemort could get inside his head whenever he wanted.

Snape raised his wand, his dark eyes hard and his posture straight. “Again, Potter.” He said before casting the spell and rebeginning his mental onslaught.

\---

Harry woke to a squeezing pressure around his body and sunlight shining brutally into his tired eyes, burning at him through the thin film of his eyelids. Disoriented, he tried to raise a hand, intending to rub the sleep from his eyes only to find his hand pinned to his side.

Reflexes honed by a year of battle and paranoid hiding sprang to life, his eyes snapping open even as his hand reached fruitlessly for his wand. He faltered, his muscles locking in an uncomfortable freeze as he stared, green eyes wide with disbelief, as the sight before him.

A mouth. Impossibly large with tombstone teeth and a maw that could swallow him whole stretched before him, open wide and descending down with the obvious intent to bite. Putrid air hit him with the force of a slap to the face, making him gag at the assault. It was hot, humid and smelled of meat long gone foul. His eyes watered at the stench and he fought to swallow the bile that rose in his throat, choking it back with a grimace. His fearful eyes not leaving the- the thing in front of him even for a moment.

What the hell was going on? And what the bloody hell was that?

Regaining control of himself Harry struggled, wriggling and jerking uselessly as he tried to free himself from the colossal hand that held him captive. His mind raced as he analyzed his situation, searching for ways to escape. His wand was snapped, and even if it weren't he wouldn't have been able to reach it with his hands pinned to his sides as they were. That meant it was either wandless magic or none at all.

Great. Perfect. Except for the small fact that he didn't fucking know how to do wandless magic!!!

The hand tightened around him, a breathless scream exploding from between his lips as the air was forced from his lungs. His ribs creaked ominously in protest of the pressure, the noise being echoed by the many other bones being slowly crushed together under the pressure of the giant’s grip. For a cruel moment Harry felt the great hand lessen its hold on him, allowing him a taunting second to gasp in as many coughing breaths of air as he could before the hand tightened swiftly around him once more. A muffled cry escaped gritted teeth as he heard the sickening snap of breaking bone and felt the jagged pain vibrating through his chest.

Harry continued to struggle, kicking his legs and fighting against the huge fingers that held him, clawing at the hand with blunt fingernails only to recoil from the overheated skin that met his touch. It’s skin was a super heated and searing temperature against his body. 

What the hell was this thing?

He watched desperately as his time ran out, its mouth coming ever closer. Not even sparing a moment to notice the glasses still perched on his face as he wished desperately for his wand. If he had it he could defend himself. If he had it he wouldn't die. He didn’t have it, the ruddy bastard had snapped it right in front of him.

His thoughts whirled as he searched for some way to get away, his mind searching over everything that could be of help.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing! There was nothing. Nothing could help him, he was powerless without his wand. Everything he had learnt about surviving and defending himself that could be useful in a situation like this needed his wand. And he didn't have a bloody wand.

He was going to die.

Fear poisoned his veins, flowing through his body with paralyzing efficiency. His breath turning shallow and his heart beating painfully hard in his chest as he stared, shocked and trapped within the giant’s hand.

The words rolled themselves about in his mind. Turning at all angles to show themselves off to him like some sick spectacle. It was like watching a muggle car crash - seeing the two hulking masses of metal skidding towards one another but being unable to do any but stand and watch.

This creature frightened him in a way Voldemort had never managed. Voldemort was human. Voldemort was vaguely sane. Voldemort could be stalled and delayed until escape was possible. This thing, whatever it was, couldn’t be stopped. Couldn’t be reasoned with or delayed, only fought or fled.

He was going to die. He was going to be killed, eaten by a monster. He would be dead. Dear Circe, he was going to die.

Die. Dead. Death.

His breath hitched and he clenched his teeth, his hands balling themselves into fists hard enough for his hands to cut into his palms and draw blood. Unfocused eyes sharpened and glared at the sight before him with venomous hate.

Fuck that.

He did not face a Dragon, Basilisk and Lord fucking Voldemort and his Death Eater sycophants to just lie down and die because some freaky giant wanted to eat him. Hell no.

His magic surged within his body, rising in response to his emotions and burning beneath his skin. After years of his magic being conducted through a wand it had become unaccustomed to wandless use, the days of wandless accidental magic as a child long past. After a moment of restless scorching within his body it exploded outwards, bursting through his skin with vengeful fury as the green light of an Avada Kedavra curse flashed through the air, colliding with the unnaturally warm flesh that help him captive.

A roar of pain cut through the air as the giant reared back, it's hand releasing Harry and mouth snapping shut far above Harry's head before stumbling backwards. The stench of burning meat assaulted Harry's nose as the colossal hand that held him seemed to evaporate into thin air with a roasting heat, exposing blackened bones from beneath vanishing flesh.

Harry dropped heavily, falling to the ground and impacting sharply against the grassy ground. The fall jarred his ribs and left his head ringing as he fought to breath through the pain, filling his lungs as best he could with rapid gasps. He longed to lay and rest for a moment but desperation drove him, fear and adrenaline pushing him onwards alongside the knowledge that any moment the giant may recover enough to have another go at eating him.

He pushed himself off the ground, lurching forward into an awkward half-run, an arm pressed to his chest in a useless attempt to alleviate the ache in his chest. His feet dragged along the ground with each forced step, brushing against the lush grass and and slowing him down.

He wasn’t going fast enough, it was going to catch up with him.

The thumping of movement behind had him increasing his pace, his wheezing stumble evolving into an awkward run. It hurt. It hurt so bloody much but he couldn’t stop, not if he wanted to live. Harry turned his head, a look over his shoulder revealing the fleshy giant reaching its uninjured arm towards him, fingers wide and grasping at him.

Its reach was too great, at his current rate he would be caught once again. Harry threw himself forward just as its fingers snatching the air where he had been standing. Another desperate look behind him revealing the great monster crawling towards him, its dull eyes fixed on his retreating form and its arm stretching out for another attempt at catching him.

Panic bubbled up from within him and Harry's fingers dug into the grass as he pushes himself up once again. An idea came to mind and he latched onto it, diving into his core and rousing as much of his magic as he could in its current state.

An overpowered wandless Killing curse was no easy feat of magic and it had just been another blow to his already depleted magical core.

Sweat dripped down his forehead, stinging at his eyes until he lifted a hand and wipe it away. Blood rushed loudly through his veins, each heartbeat seeming to lend strength to his headache. Evolving it from an underlay of minor discomfort into the throbbing pain that pounded through his head, warning of the onset of magical exhaustion. Harry's eyes closed as he blocked out the increasing pain, reaching deeper and deeper into himself until he felt the tingle of his magic as it set alight his blood and spread through his body.

He groaned as the transformation wracked his body. The prickling sensation of sprouting feathers traveling in waves over his body, pinching as glossy black plumage emerged from his skin. His bones stretched, sending spears of pain through his ribs as they shifted and grew. It was always the bones that were most painful, grinding and jerking uncomfortably as he changed.

He shivered at the spreading chill of mammalian blood turned cold. The seeping cold starting at his heart and traveling at all reaches of his body in a few pounding heartbeats. Harry's vision flickered, the coloured world fading in a shroud of dark indigo. Closing his eyes against the nauseating spectacle he felt the stretching sensation of his curved golden beak overcoming his face.

The change continued to work through his body, the last vestiges of magic dancing through his veins and finishing the transformation.

His animagus form was unusual, even by Wizarding standards. Although bird animagi were not uncommon, ones of his size were unheard of save for vague whimsical tales of great sorcerers and their magical animal forms.

As he shifted he could only thank Circe that he'd completed his training in the development of his animagus form. The repetitive hours of meditation paying off as he left the ground, the heavy beat of his wings carrying him far beyond the reach of his monstrous assailant. He skimmed the ground, slowly gaining altitude with every strained flap of his great wings.

A world in lavender met his eyes, ultraviolet light once invisible to his human eyes now tinting his sight in varying shades of purple and shining white. Harry ignored the angry flare in his chest as he took to the skies, his wings carrying him further and further away from his pursuer.

His lungs heaving for air but Harry didn’t stop until he was high above the giant's reach. Tilting his wings, he circle around to make sure it wasn’t following him, sharp eyes finding the monstrous creature and following its movements. Even from such a distance he could see its unfocused eyes wandering aimlessly as it lumbered about, not once looking in his direction.

As he watched it wandered off, heavy footsteps vibrating through the ground as the giant walked. It seemed to have completely lost interest in him, not even slightly curious about seeing the man it was trying to eat - AKA him – turn into a enormous eagle and fly away.

Something wasn't right here. He didn't know what it was but there was something wrong with what had just happened. Something... off.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry's claws clinked against what remained of what must have once have been the wall of a quaint stone building, digging into the crumbling structure as he perched on the aged stone. Around him lay the collapsed shells of many such houses, each and every one falling into damaged disrepair. It was was only one of the many such towns he had come across in the two weeks since his arrival through the Veil.

At first he'd assumed the many villages were just the crumbling evidence of some old civilization long since disappeared. They were old enough – a couple of hundred years at least judging by the state of the stonework and the overgrown nature well on its way to reclaiming the land. But he'd quickly discarded that theory upon taking a closer look. The evidence was irrefutable.

The villages weren't just ruined, they were destroyed. Ripped apart in a manner that was all too possible when Harry remembered the giant that had attacked him upon his arrival into this world through the Veil. If you assumed all of the giants he had see wandering the lands had the same reaction towards humans as his attacker had - enthusiastic attempts to eat and otherwise kill him - then it wasn't beyond reason to think that they had been what destroyed the villages.

Which, or course, would mean that the giants had been present wherever he was for quite a long time for them to have ruined the towns centuries ago. Either they were incredibly long aged or had some manner of reproducing and expanding their numbers - something which was a mystery to Harry, having noticed during the attack that the giants had no, err, reproductive organs. Or at least none that visible.

In the days that followed this realization Harry had paid special attention to the giants whenever he came across one while exploring the world he had been dropped in, following them from the skies and watching their interactions with their surroundings. Seeking more information on the world he had landed in and the colossal monsters that appeared to dominate the lands.

He’d even taken the risk of landing in front of one, standing uncomfortably close to the thing and waiting for some kind of reaction. It hadn’t even looked at him, just lumbering past, absent and glassy eyed. Not once even bothering to notice the abnormally large bird standing in front of it.

As far as he could see the giants seemed to hold no real interest in anything, walking about aimlessly and completely ignoring any wildlife they came across. Gentle behemoths unattached and half awake, sleepwalking their way across the lands.None of them acting the way his aggressor had, instead seeming quite genial in their disinterested attitude towards the environment around them.

Considering this Harry had quickly begun expanding his theories.

First of all the giants seemed aggressive towards humans, judging the state of the ancient towns and their attempt to eat him - though that may just have been a fluke.

Second, they had little interest in nature or its creatures, which explained the giant losing interest in him when he transformed into his animagus form and, as such, was no longer human.

If he was correct in his assumptions it meant that the giants, or whatever they were, were aggressive towards humans, maybe even preyed on them – as indicated by it's attempt to eat him.

Further investigation was required. And Harry wasn't one to cower in face of what needed to be done.

All it would require was one test. One stupidly easy bloody terrifying test. All he had to do was transform back into a human in front of one of the giants and see if it tried to attack him, simple right? Or so Harry told himself.

Just to be sure he had waited a couple of days before performing his test, letting his magic reserves return gradually until he was certain he would be able to do a fast paced two way transformation. The last thing he wanted was to be trapped in his human form in a world of potentially hostile giants with no way of changing back because he had run out of magic. That would be an embarrassing way to die. Death because of impatience and being such a bloody Gryffindor as to not wait for his magical exhaustion to fade away.

So it was that five days into his stay in this wonderful new world Harry was setting himself down a good fifty yards from one of the giants and beginning the uncomfortable change into his human form. Not that it was his fault he hadn't been able to do anything about his broken ribs, it wasn't as if he could just pull out his wand and used one of the multitude of healing spells Hermione had ensured he know, read cram into his brain by the book load.

Even as Harry completed the transformation, feathers retreating back under his skin with a weird sucking sensation, he knew it was bad idea. Its head turned, soulless eyes focusing on him. Hungry intent flooded him and he stood pinned beneath its gaze, blank eyes trapping him in places like just another butterfly flapping desperately against the descending pin.

It took one step towards him and Harry felt as if his heart would stop. These creatures, feeling their direct and undiluted attention pressing down on him was beyond any fear he had ever known. As quickly as he could he called upon his magic, letting it burn through his body as viciously as it wanted in return for rapid transformation and escape from the pressing weight of its blank eyes.

He turned and fled, putting land and sky between them. What these creature invoked in him… it was mindless, primal fear. It was what it felt to be a deer before a wolf pack. Prey before predator.

The rapid ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum drove him, telling him to flee flee flee. He didn't know how long he flew before his heart calmed, until he could breath again and not feel like he was suffocating in his fear.

That was not good. That was really really not good. More like spectacularly bad, actually. Shite.

Taking his discovery into account Harry wisely decided that staying in his animagus form was a whole lot safer, consequences of continuous and lengthy transformation be damned. Having to deal with some of his animagus form temporarily bleeding over into his human form when he turned back was better than being chased about by enormous creatures intent on killing him just because he was human.

He took to the skies once again, gaining altitude until he drifted pleasantly above the grassy plain lands. So far the landscape had been largely consistent, long stretches of lightly hilled grassland sporting the occasional copse of trees or ruined village, nothing to suggest anything sign of human survival.

Really, the most interesting thing about this place seemed to be the large numbers of the man-eating giants roaming around, if anything.

The next few hours passed with no new developments. Night was crawling closer, the sun slipping closer and closer to the horizon in the hours since he had left the latest village he had found. The third so far, though the first two could hardly be counted as villages at all they were so damaged - piles of broken rock at most. None of them very far apart from one another - a few days walk at most, and considering he was flying it took only hours to get between the villages.

He was beginning to tire, something he knew was because of his injuries. Back before he'd been shunted through the Veil and subsequently crushed in the hand of a giant he'd been able to fly for hours, even days, on end without feeling the slightest bit tired.

Being hungry was another matter entirely. His animagus form, much like any other large life-form, require a huge amount of food to keep going. A huge amount of food he was having trouble finding.

Even hunting the occasional deer or other animal he managed to catch in his weakened state wasn't enough, which, though gross, was something he'd had to adapt to doing – it was better than starving. It was his guess, considering the gnawing hunger constantly eating away at his stomach, that he was getting maybe half the amount of food a bird his size would need.

If he didn't find a way of getting more food soon he would be buggered. Especially since he couldn't just change back into a human and fill his considerably smaller stomach with all the giants about.

It was as he pondered his food situation and possible solutions that he came across the giant forest.

In the distance, barely visible over the horizon even to his sharp eyes, stood the bushy green of a forest top. At first it had appeared like any other, the distance making it seem smaller than it was – until he had gotten closer.

Seeing the forest, the first he'd come across, he'd decided to head in that direction. Not that there was much choice, all other options being more grassland. Grassland was well enough but any tree he’d come across had no chance of holding his weight, leaving him to either sleep on the ground - which was a risk Harry really didn't enjoy taking - or flying back to the ruined villages and perching on what remained

Approaching swiftly through the air Harry was soon astounded by the size of the forest. It was gargantuan – a forest to match the land's wandering giants. The tree's were huge! Goliath trunks stretching meters upon meters above the ground in a sight only rivaled by the forbidden forest back home, ending in thick branches and multitudes of leaves in all directions.

Nearing the great forest he heard it. The barest whisper of sound on the breeze carried to his sensitive ears.

Screams. Human screams coming from within the forest.

Harry didn't stop to think, didn't hesitate for a second, flying full speed straight towards the forest. Someone needed his help and he would be damned if he just walked away.


	4. Chapter 4

The scent of blood saturated the air, it's coppery clogging his nostrils. Colossal trees blocked his sight, making him dodge and twist through the maze of their splayed branches. The screams grew louder with every hurried beat of his wings, the terrified shouts and battle cries becoming identifiable words as he drew closer.

The tell tale thumping of giant footsteps could be heard beneath the pained shouts. Harrys heart jolted in his chest at the thought of facing the giants again, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he forced the feeling down. Banishing his traitorous thoughts of cowardice to the back of his mind and letting his famed Gryffindor bravery take center stage. People needed his help, it was no time for him give into pre-battle jitters, even if his opponent were creatures best suited to a nightmare.

He dove beneath the thick curving branches and was released into a scene of blood and chaos. A hoard of giants filled the forest, long seeking limbs reaching out to grab at humans who whizzed around them through the air with metal wires and blades bared. Broken bodies of the defeated littered the ground, the dismembered corpses dropped left and right uncaring of the precious live's that had just been extinguished. They lay like so many fallen leaves, broken shells abandoned beneath the frantic hooves of saddled horses that ran back and forth in evasion of giant legs and clumsy feet.

It was a massacre.

He didn't have time to think, only to react. Before him a giant caught hold of a human's wire, yanking them off path and pulling them towards the giants mouth. Harry drew in his wings, diving downwards without hesitation.

His claws clasped the wire with a jarring screech, the metallic cable cutting into the soft scales of his grip. Hot blood dripped from his claws as he wrenched the wire from the giants grip and pulled the human to safety. The human yelped as he unfurled his wings and bringing them back up to safer heights before depositing the human on a nearby branch.

He spared a glance for the man he had saved, feeling anger ignite within him at the sight of the young man, barely older than Harry himself, that he'd rescued from death at the giant's hands. His uniform was torn, his sword slick and steaming with evaporating blood of their enemy. Short cropped blond hair was stained with splattered red, the colour out of place against his honey locks. By all accounts the man should be terrified, a young man facing an army of colossal monsters, yet his blue eyes were hard with resolve. The man was a soldier, Harry realised, someone trained to fight and win. To lay down his life for his people, fully prepared to sacrifice himself for the greater whole.

The man held his blades at the ready, prepared to attack at any moment. His eyes took in Harry's form without flinching, and Harry knew he was searching for weaknesses – points to exploit and attack should Harry prove to be an enemy. Harry knew, because that was what he would have done.

The battle still raged around them but for the moment Harry was unable to tear himself away from the the man's gaze. It was like staring into a mirror and seeing himself reflected in the man before him. Worlds apart but fundamentally the same. Both too young, both facing an enemy with strength beyond reckoning, both unwilling to ever falter or fail. Fighting on until all their enemies lay six feet under or until they died trying.

That was what he should have been, back when Voldemort resurrected himself to power. A soldier, properly trained by the Order so that he actually had a chance of winning. Not the half-schooled boy he had been when he was forced to take the weight of the world on his shoulders and bear it without a single sign of strain. Back then, back before the veil and his arrival in this new world, they had expected him to fight. Expected him fight and win and come out unscathed and unchanged.

He would always respect men like the one before him. Men who, unlike he who had no choice in the matter, had chosen to lay down their lives to fight and protect. But now was not the time. The battle raged around them and so Harry drew back, giving the man a single solemn nod as he took to the skies, rejoining the fray.

Quickly he singled in on his first target, a sizeable giant with a few small tufts of limp grey hair and a wide gaping mouth full of large hungry teeth, and attacked. Black talons sank deep into hot flesh as he raked his claws across a giants face. It lurched back and away from the man it had been reaching for. His wings flapped desperately to keep him aloft as he attacked again, scratching at the arms it brought up to protect its face in a phantom of human reaction. Not a lethal wound, but hopefully it would slow it down for a moment and give Harry the chance to inflict something a little more... permanent.

Before he could do so, the wounds healed, releasing great clouds of white steam as they just seemed to knit themselves back together. Harry wasn't deterred, laying into his enemy once again and continuing to do so until a flash of steel from a passing human finally brought the thing down.

Harry didn't allow himself a moment to rest, moving on immediately to face his next opponent.

The fight continued.

Exhaustion was settling its claws into him again all too easily, the bone deep weariness making itself known once again in a draining wave left his injured ribs crying out in tandem with his aching muscles. It had carved itself into him bit by bit, growing stronger with every week of hunger and injury. The strain of being forced into his animagus form for weeks on end had settled deep in him, and at times Harry had wondered how he would ever be able to escape the all consuming exhaustion that clouded his mind and left his magic too weak to heal his injured ribs, a feat that would have taken mere days had he been at full power.

It chased him now too, ebbing and flowing like waves along a beachfront, slowly whittling away what little energy he had left. A looming threat that his next bout of exhaustion would be the one to bring in the tide and tip him over the edge and land him in a dead faint. Not yet, but soon. And he could only hope that the fighting would end before he collapsed from exhaustion.

Around him the humans fought, faces grim and snarling as they battled their enemy with all the desperation fear could bring. They flew through the air with impossible grace, making pinpoint turns and arcing spins as they dragged their blades across enemy flesh only for it to heal again within moments. Every attack they made faded before their eyes, hard earned results disappearing as the enemy regenerated within moments and was ready to attack again.

How could you fight a monster your weapons had no effect on? Fucking hard, thats how you fight. Because if you gave an inch you would loose a mile, and Harry would break every bone in his body, bleed every drop of his blood, before he ever gave up.

He knew this sort of fight, had lived it for twelve months. Twelve months of struggles for survival. Not the great clashing of forces like that of the Battle of Hogwarts but skirmishes to escape before reinforcement came and they were overrun. The fight wasn't for victory, it was for survival.

A war cry roared from his beak and he launched himself into the fight again, already ramming himself into a new enemy. Scorching blood stained his feathers and burned his skin and inhuman fumbling hands reached for him even as blank eyes disregarded him. After all he wasn't human, so why would they be interested in him? Beyond the occasional attempt to swat him away none spared him a glace more for all that his claws rent their flesh and spirited humans away to safety right before their very eyes.

Out of the corner of his eye he noted the humans circling a giant, distracting it with minor frontal attacks and taunting movements even as one spun and dragged their dual blades across the back of its neck. Piping hot steam erupted from the giant as it evaporated down to its bones, collapsing onto its knees and crumbling away until all that was left was a gust of burning air.

The giant didn't get up. Didn't regenerate. It was dead, its corpse burnt bones and dissipating heat.

Back of the neck. That was their weak point.

Harry grinned fiercely, or as much as he could do so with a beak, and launched himself through the air. He knew their weakness now, knew the trick to killing one where the killing curse had failed. Finally, he could fight back.

He returned his attention to his current enemy and redoubled his efforts, coming at his great foe with renewed courage. The giant was huge, making even Harry's admittedly large form look like a common eagle in comparison. It dull eyes looked right through him, right down into the very depths of his soul as if to judge him before deeming him inconsequential and turning its attention onto more promising prospects, staring beyond him to fixate on the humans that fought around them.

Harry took advantage of this inattention to circle around it and take hold, his claws sinking deep into the blistering flesh of the giant's shoulders as he brought his beak down on the back of its neck, biting and hacking away at its neck.

His weapons, bird of prey that he was in his animagus form, were not like those of the human fighters. He had no swords, no wires with which to spin and slice. But he didn't let this hinder him. Even if his weapon of choice, magic, was unavailable to him by necessity of keeping to his animagus form, he still had methods of offence. The two handfuls of wicked sharp talons and a razor edge of his curved beak were more than sufficient, and Harry took great relish in demonstrating this upon his opponents.

Foreign blood gushed down his throat, bitter and burning in a way blood should never be. The giant's blood was tainted, foul and unnatural on his tongue. The blood was wrong, the giants were wrong. Nothing that had naturally evolved could ever taste so rotten.

The giant evaporated between his claws, leaving him grasping at air and gagging on the rancid blood. He retched, spitting the hot liquid out and coughing. That was really really gross.

As he rid himself of as much of the foul blood as he could the call for retreat sounded, the humans dropping down onto what little of their mounts hadn't fled and quickly collecting the injured and dead into their wagons. What few that could ran interference on the giants, leading away and distracting any enemies that remained from the fight.

Harry joined them, putting his claws to good use attacking the giants where he could to give the humans more time to escape.

The wagons rattled as they pulled away, horses straining under the hefty weight of their burdens as their rider spurred them faster. Within minutes the men had withdrawn, evidence of the battle the bloodstained ground and the dead they had not been able to safely recover and were forced to leave behind.

He swiped one last time at the few remaining giants before he took after the humans. They were the first people he'd seen since his passage through the veil and he'd be damned if he just let them go. Solitude was not his natural milieu for all that he hated crowds and being the centre of attention as he had so often been in the eyes of the Daily Prophet and british wizarding public. Days on end spent in his own company, stuck in his animagus form for fear of his life, had not been kind to him or his companionable nature – although thankfully he'd managed to avoid getting to the point where he started talking to himself.

Weaving through the trees he followed the humans, flying above them as they rode. He easily kept pace, staying with them even as they pushed their horses on, skidding around as they turned onto a gravel road that ran the length of the forest. Harry hadn't noticed it there before in his rush to get to the fight, but now that he had more time to observe his surroundings – because no matter how fast the horses could run he was flying, and frankly the two hardly bared comparison, especially in terms of speed – he wondered how he could have missed it in the first place.

Trees bracketed the rode in on both sides, the forest thickening around them. Harry doubted he'd be able to get back off the path without some serious maneuvering to get through the thick vegetation, but he didn't mind. There were no trees to swerve around while above the road and that let him increase his speed with ease.

The sounds of the giants behind them grew fainter, the earth shaking footsteps of their pursuers growing quieter as the distance grew between them. The occasional giant still had to be avoided, coming in from the sides and bursting through the undergrowth only to be taken down by the humans who still flitted their ways through the treetops. A flash of bloodied metal and the giant fell, defeated before it could truly attack.

Before them the light of the day could be seen, growing larger with every beat of his wings until the grassy hill land filled their vision. The forest fell away around them, ending with startling suddenness and leaving them to run through the open.

Harry rode the thermal currents that rose from the land, stronger now that they were out in the open, taking advantage of the extra space to gain altitude and keep an eye out for any giants in the vicinity. The men grew smaller beneath him, the sounds of their mounts fading as the whistling of the wind and the familiar thump thump thump of his heartbeat filled his ears.

The landscape shone with light before his eyes, violet and purple with the occasional smear of bright whites and vivid yellows. The ultraviolet light reflected of the human's metal gear, blinding rays of white shining from where they rode, flashing and jerking about as they moved.

They rode swift and hard, passing over grassland and through the ruined towns alike without pause, shouting commands back and forth as vigilant eyes watched for any sign of more attackers. The terrain was not in their favor, open land limiting their ability to use the wire contraptions that allowed them to whizz through the air even as slowly rising grassy hills and the remnants of shattered villages blocked their line of sight.

Harry had no such obstruction and it was he, high in the sky, who saw it first. Off to the left, not three hundred metres in front of them, ambled a group of giants. The humans could not see them, and neither could they see the humans, hidden from each other's sight by the land itself. The situation was in itself a double edged sword, because for all that it gave them the chance to escape without being spotted it also meant that the humans had no way of knowing about the danger that was bearing down on them.

As they were now the humans wouldn't see the giants until it was too late, and by then the giants would be right in the middle of their tight formation. Right where it was most defended, and where the wounded were kept.

One or two giants the humans might be able to deal with, even despite the disadvantage of being out in the open, but there were too many. Four of the larger ones, and even more of the smaller ones - too many to fight off. He had to warn them, had to get them off their path and away from the group of giants.

He dove, tucking in his wings and watching the ground rush up to meet him in a steep plummeted downwards that would, to all watching eyes, end with him a bloody smear on the landscape. When he was only a few scant metres from the ground he flared his wings, catching the air roughly and ending him dive not far in front of the first horse.

Harry blocked the path of the formation, his head jerking as he tried to indicate the danger. They didn't understand, eyeing him fearfully as they circled around him and continued on straight. A wagon was coming straight for him and Harry had no choice but to regain altitude. He stayed low to the ground, flying near the front of the procession and attempting to guild them off their course only be ignored time and time again.

A screech of frustration tore from his throat. Stupid, stupid, blind idiots! Couldn't they see he was trying to help them? He'd just helped them fight off a fuckload of giants in the forest and now he was an enemy? Was he this ignorant too when he was human? Bloody hell he hoped not.

If he didn't manage to turn them around soon it would be too late. He needed another option, a plan B. A maybe he could fly ahead and get a head start on the fight, take out one or two of the giants before the humans got there? Perhaps even turn the giants away since he hadn't managed to do so with the humans?

No, it wouldn't work, the giants would ignore him too and either way he wouldn't be able to take out enough of the giants by himself to make a difference and stop the bloodshed before it could really start. More would die unless he came up with something better, unless he did something!!!

Just as hope began to leave him and he had no choice but to fly head and do a preemptive strike against the giants, he spotted something from the corner of his eye. Riding past him on one of the wagons was the man, the blond one that he'd saved, the soldier.

An idea popped into his head, reckless and stupid and likely going to fail, but at least better than him running ahead and jumping, outnumbered and alone, into a fight against a considerable amount of giants. What the hell, he thought, its worth a shot.

Alright, time to try out plan C! (And possibly D if the human didn't cooperate. Anyway it wouldn't really be kidnapping since he was actually saving him.)

He let himself float downwards until he was gliding parallel with the wagon. Meeting the man's blue eyes he jerked his head in invitation. I need you to trust me, his eyes said. For a second he thought the man wouldn't understand. His doubts were dismissed when the soldier nodded, meeting his eyes for a serious second before he crouched low and sprang onto Harry's back with a heavy thump.

Obviously plan D would not be needed.

Harry barely muffled a squawk as the sudden weight hit his injured ribs, sending blinding lances of pain through his body. He wavered under the weight, the extra weight diving him downwards for a brief moment before he adjusting to the soldier on his back and pulling back up again. The pain in his ribs settled to a dull throbbing, constricting around his chest and forcing his breath into short panted gasps.

Fucking hell. You wouldn't see him doing this again for fun – maybe if he weren't so bloody sore, but right now? Just... oww. Boney knees were spiking into his back, poking at his ribs while the heavy rectangular metal of the man's sword sealth hit against him with every beat of his wings. Not comfortable, not even vaguely, but he was a Gryffindor. He could put up with a little pain and discomfort if it would save lives.

Strong hands curled around his feather shoulders and Harry let the man get a grip before he drew away from the wagon and beat himself upwards furiously. The wind ruffled his feathers, whipping against him in fury as he brought the human higher into the sky's domain. The sight of the world stretched out beneath them. Galloping horses and their human riders were small to their eyes, a caravan of sprinting ants travelling a grassy plainland.

“Damn.” Harry heard the soldier curse and knew the man had seen the group of giants.

He sighed in relief. Mission accomplished. Maybe this time the humans would actually listen and divert their course.

He didn't wait for the soldier to order him back down, already tilting his primary feathers to let him into a gentle dive, unwilling to accidentally fling the human off by dropping into a full vertical dive. It would hardly be conducive to his aim of saving them if he blatantly dropped one of them off his back some hundred meters off the ground.

As they drew nearer to the fleeing group of humans the soldier reached a hand over Harry's shoulder, pointing him towards the head of the makeshift formation.

“Over there!” The man cried, directing Harry towards a stern looking man with wrinkles and grey peppered hair who rode near the front. His short green cape flapped in the wind, flashing silver and blue at him through the fold of fabric. A crest maybe? Strong hands wrapped were tightly around the reigns of his horse, a light grey beast with wide eyes and twitching ears. A superior officer? Head of the expedition or platoon or whatever this was?

Harry dipped his head in acquisition and sped forwards, coming to fly a little above the train of men as he made his way over to them towards man. The human formation wavered at his presence, quite a few of the men shooting him terrified looks and shouting out in fright, looking as if they wanted to flee until a sharp barked command from the grey haired man set them in order.

“Commander!” The soldier shouted from his back. “Commander, Titans ahead at 11 o'clock!”

Was that what the giants were called then, Titans? Fitting, more fitting than giants or beasts or whatever else Harry had taken to calling them in the confines of his own head. Some of the names had been a bit... sweary. 

“You sure about that, Soldier?” The Commander growled from atop his horse, voice rough and smokey. He was suspicious, that much was obvious. Harry didn't hold it against him, he would have been too in his position. First there were giant man-eating Titans about and attacking, and now some giant eagle had shown up and kidnapped one of his men to the sky. It was all a bit surreal. In circumstances like those he too would have taken everything with a grain of salt.

“Sir, yes, sir!” The soldier answered with a salute.

“Fuck. Jenson send out flare, I want the formation moved to the right.” A woman riding at the commander's side nodded and reached into her saddlebag, pulling out the aforementioned flare and loading it into a pistol. Covering her ears as best she could with one hand she raised it into the air and fired it off to the right. With a bang a plume of green smoke shot through the air behind the flare, pointing off into the sky to their right.

Harry recoiled from the loud noise, flinching back with a uncontrolled jerk of his wings as he launched himself away. Sensitive avian ears were not meant to be so close to firing pistols, and his ears rang loudly with the force of the noise. By the time he got his flight back under control the human's formation had turned, the entire fast paced caravan of horses and wagons pulling to the right as they followed the flare.

Pushing aside the strings of exhaustion that pulled at his muscles, weighing him down like lead had been strapped to his very bones, Harry returned upwards flight. He and his passenger taking up position high above the formation to keep an eye on any new enemies. The strong beats of his wings were beginning to falter, growing shallower as the added weight of the man on his back spurred the creeping grip of exhaustion onwards until it had settled deep within him. Once or twice more they had to dive down to warn the Commander of a giant or two but for the most part they seemed to be in the clear.

Tired eyes watched the world in ultraviolet, feathered brows set into a stubborn frown and he fought of the clinging vestiges of sleepiness that tried to pull his eyes shut – or as close to one as you could get without eyebrow and with a beak. He blinked for a moment and felt himself fall a bit, his eye snapping open and he tried to regain lost altitude.

Looking up he reared back at the sight that met his eyes. How, exactly, he'd been so tired as to not notice that Harry had no idea. A wall stood before him, not just any small foot high migit wall but a 'I am bigger and meaner than the Great Wall of China, and if you don't like it then go throw yourself off me' wall. Bloody fucking big wall. The thing had to be fifty meters high!

Turning his head he peered over his shoulder, giving the soldier an incredulous look. Are you fucking kidding me? The look said, and it must have been evident because the soldier had the nerve to look slightly amused by his blatant disbelief. Smug arsehole, he should have just left him to the bloody giants.

Thats it, this world was bloody insane. First with its hoard of evilish giants and humans that whizzed about on wires and now with a wall that Harry was positive could be seen from space. Hell it could probably be seen from the other side of the bloody universe thats how big it was – although all things considered it would have to be if it had been made to keep the giants out.

Harry turned back to the wall and shrugged as best he could in his animagus form. Well... when you really thought about it, it was nothing worse than what he usually saw back home in the Wizarding World. When you thought about it in terms of, you know, wizardy stuff – like the Pyramids in Egypt actually being five times bigger than the muggles thought they were and home to cities of magical creatures (the Pyramids being tombs being a carefully concocted ruse to stop the muggles looking more deeply than a few booby trapped tunnels of bewitched treasure and old ancient mugle artifacts) or the entire wizarding continent of Atlantis that was hidden from muggles beneath the Atlantic ocean... When you thought about it like that, 50 meter walls didn't seem all that strange after all.

He closed his eyes for a moment, sighed, and then resumed forward flight.

Merlin it was good to be back in civilization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked the new chapter and that it was worth waiting for (yeah, sorry about that.)


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